


The Tiara Trials

by ritaskeetered



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, F/M, Inspired by Princess Diaries
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-28
Updated: 2018-02-28
Packaged: 2019-03-25 02:38:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13824723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ritaskeetered/pseuds/ritaskeetered
Summary: Lily Evans was just a regular girl, living with her perfectly normal sister and soon to be brother-in-law. She went to a typically British college in the middle of London, wearing an orthodox school uniform and making standardised test after standardised test. There was nothing exceptional about her if you didn’t take her auburn hair into account.Everything changed, however, when Minerva McGonagall arrived at her doorstep the day after her 18th birthday, announcing that – NEWS FLASH – Lily Evans is the Princess of the Isle of Gryffindor.What is an 18-year-old girl to do but invest in her princess lessons when she receives the shock of a century? Not to mention, what is a princess to do if she fails spectacularly at this whole princess business, forcing the Isle of Gryffindor to become part of the Kingdom of Great Britain if she doesn’t get her act together in time? And leaving her kingdom in the hands of a certain Prince James of Britain? Over her ancestors' dead bodies...





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This has been an utter delight to write, but has been sitting in my documents for far too long. I'm more than happy and more than ready to post this! I hope you enjoy it. Yet another Royalty AU!

Minerva McGonagall, as the woman had introduced herself, folded her hands into her lap as her sister - strangely enough shaking slightly - poured her a cup of Twinings' Earl Grey. 

Lily detested Earl Grey. The smell of it alone made her want to gag, but she supposed that Minerva McGonagall was not the sort of woman you would gag in front of. She was not the kind of woman you would do something even remarkably inappropriate in front of, to be perfectly honest. Her black hair was pulled into a tight bun at the back of her head and she wore an emerald green pantsuit. She looked positively regal and out of place in her sister's flowery living room. 

"Thank you," McGonagall said as her sister offered the woman a biscuit. Lily thought she even sounded royal. If this woman were to ever meet with the queen, she figured that Queen Euphemia would meet her match. Quite a feat, since Queen Euphemia was the most sophisticated woman to have ever walked the earth, if you asked her. Her coin portrait alone demanded respect. 

Her sister – Petunia Evans, soon to be Dursley – sat down, pulling her knees together and reaching for the hem of her dress to pull it further down as she sat. The twitching of her sister's fingers did not go unnoticed and Lily thought her sister’s shaken appearance was truly odd. 

Minerva McGonagall reached for her cup of tea, lifting both the porcelain cup as well as the saucer, holding it gently between her fingers. Lily took this as her cue to scoot closer to the edge of the sofa she had sat down on, reaching for two of the sugar cubes, which she unceremoniously dunked into her tea. She grabbed her spoon and stirred rather noisily. As soon as she lifted her spoon from her tea she put it in her mouth to clean it off as to not to make a mess.  
  
When she looked up at Minerva McGonagall – teaspoon in her mouth – she noticed that the woman's eyebrows had risen. She sent the woman a sheepish smile and felt the inexplicable urge to apologise, but felt too awkward to even attempt to. Because – with a woman like McGonagall – where do you begin? Before you know it, you’re apologising for a war you did not even start and hadn’t ever heard of. 

She scooted back on the sofa and noticed her sister's eyes on her as well. They had widened slightly and her nostrils had flared. 

Judging by her sister's clear displeasure, this meeting with Minerva McGonagall was of the upmost importance to her sister. Not that she hadn't known about this beforehand. Her sister had all but demanded that she came straight home after finishing her classes for the day. "I am serious, Lily," she had said. "No dawdling about Camden Town with that boy you always hang out with."

Her sister hated Camden Town, the quirkiness of it. Lily, however, loved it for that reason alone and she had managed to convince Severus of the fact as well. Although, it didn't take much convincing when he saw the countless of shops where he could buy black shirts with texts he considered clever enough to be on a shirt. 

However, instead of spending her afternoon in Camden, possibly visiting the Irregular Choice shoe shop where she would try on a number of heels she couldn't afford to buy, she was enjoying a cup of Earl Grey – insert the gagging – with her sister and this Minerva McGonagall.  _Oh, the joy..._  

Lily figured this McGonagall woman was probably a wedding planner that her sister had found while she was browsing online. She very nearly felt sick at the thought of it. Planning a wedding she did not fully support - for all she and her sister were different, she truly did not believe Vernon Dursley deserved Petunia - was not her idea of fun.

She supposed, though, that her sister would tell her she should be grateful that she had even allowed Lily to go out and enjoy herself on her 18th birthday the day before. 

The three women quietly sipped their tea for a few minutes, which caused Lily to grow increasingly restless. She needed to review her Chemistry as she had a test the day after. She knew she would do well – Slughorn was not remarkably fond of her for nothing – but she knew that she would have to score exceptionally well if she wanted to attend either Cambridge or Oxford in September. Sipping tea she did not even like all that much was not going to get her anywhere, however. Except maybe Little Whinging, a.k.a. the end of the world, a.k.a. her sister's soon to be hometown. 

"I hope you enjoyed your birthday, Lily," Minerva McGonagall suddenly said. Lily was startled for only a second. 

"Thank you, Mrs McGonagall," she replied. "It was all right." 

Again, Minerva McGonagall's eyebrows rose slightly, although this time she had no clue as to why. She didn't even fully understand why her sister had informed her wedding planner of her sister’s birthday the day before. It wasn't as though Petunia had gone through lengths to celebrate her birthday. A tense 'Happy Birthday' and a flowery notebook – that she had honestly not liked all that much – had been all that was done to even acknowledge the fact that she had come of age the day before. 

"Lovely," Minerva McGonagall then spoke, sitting up even straighter – a feat Lily had not considered possible. "Forgive me, Lily, for my tardiness, but I would also like to present you with a gift." 

If she had been surprised before, she certainly was now. "Oh, that is," she spluttered, her cheeks turning rosy as she was handed a tall, slim and rather heavy piece of ruby fabric that Minerva McGonagall – for some inexplicable reason – had managed to hide until now, "very thoughtful." 

"It is a family heirloom," Minerva McGonagall informed her. 

" _What?_ " she asked, thoroughly confused. She turned to her sister who looked extremely pale. “ _Whose_ family? Yours?” 

"Perhaps," her sister said, avoiding her gaze and training her eyes on McGonagall instead, "we should start at the beginning." 

The ruby fabric on her lap was heavy as she watched the two women engage in an intense staring fest. Not understanding what was going on in the slightest, she started to finger the fabric only to notice that something was wrapped inside of the cloth. Unbeknownst to the other women in the room, she started to unwrap it and gasped when a sword appeared. 

"The beginning it is," she heard Minerva McGonagall say. "The sword used to belong to Godric Gryffindor. He is your father's direct ancestor, born in the 10th century. As you can imagine, it is not something you might want to carry around with you. Certainly not to school." 

Her fingers gently stroked the sword before she looked up at her sister. "You told me father worked at a toothpaste factory." Then realisation hit her and she narrowed her eyes slightly: " _Wait_ , was that just a trick to get me to brush my teeth?" 

Petunia opened her mouth to respond, but Minerva McGonagall interrupted. " _Preposterous_ ," the woman said, sounding scandalised. "Your father was highly distinguished and very well educated." 

Lily’s eyebrows rose. "He quit school when he was sixteen," she told Minerva McGonagall. "I am the first of the Evanses to go to university." She scrunched up her nose. “Hopefully, that is.” _If she could actually study for her Chemistry test…_  

It seemed as though Minerva McGonagall was more than ready to reply to her words, but this time her sister interrupted in time to stop her. 

"I really think we ought to start at the beginning." 

"That is where I started. The 10th century." 

"Yes, but you see, I haven't really had the chance to -" 

"I figured, yes." 

"So, you understand that it is vital that we go about this slowly." 

" _Slowly_?" Minerva McGonagall's eyes very nearly flashed and Lily noticed that her sister very nearly cowered in her seat. "We have waited for two years. We agreed on this day two years ago.  _You_  neglected to inform her. _I_ have given you plenty of time!" 

Lily thought that her sister would have replied to the woman’s words, but instead she seemed terribly ashamed. Her cheeks were a violent red and her eyes were wide. 

Minerva McGonagall let out a sigh. "I understand how difficult this must be, Petunia, dear," she still sounded stern, but there was a warmth in her voice that Lily had not previously detected. "But this is your sister's life." 

"What about my life?" Lily then asked, sitting up and eyeing the woman in front of her fiercely. 

Minerva McGonagall stared at her for a moment before a ghost of a smile played at her lips. "That is the Gryffindor fire I see, my dear." Then, folding her hands in her lap again: "What I am about to tell you, might come as a shock." 

Lily turned her head slightly to face her sister. Petunia avoided her gaze. "This whole afternoon has been rather shocking so far," she answered McGonagall, who sent her a sympathetic smile. 

"Oh, darling," she said and then: "your father is the late King George of the Isle of Gryffindor. You, Lily Georgiana Evangeline, are the rightful heir to his throne." Then, smiling wistfully: "I have come to take you home." 

Lily’s eyes widened as her heart very nearly beat out of her chest. “Excuse me?” she asked, baffled. “I don’t think I follow…” 

“You are the Princess of the Isle of Gryffindor,” McGonagall stated. Hearing the word, hearing the title that was supposedly hers, caused her to very nearly choke.

She turned her head to look at her sister. She was not the type of woman to pull pranks or to even enjoy practical jokes, but she thought this felt like one. It must have been one. She turned her attention back to Minerva McGonagall, who was watching her closely. 

“You must be mistaken,” she told the woman, who in turn raised one of her perfect eyebrows. How had she not noticed the perfection of those eyebrows before? She decided right there and then that someone with such amazing eyebrows could not be trusted. “You’re joking, right?” 

Minerva McGonagall merely shook her head and looked at her sister. “Do you see why you should have talked about this with your sister before?” 

Lily could no longer stand sitting on the sofa and stood, taking a few steps away from both women. “My father,” she began, “is John Evans. He died just before I was born.” 

Petunia’s cheeks turned even rosier at her words and McGonagall let out a sigh. “ _That_ is what you have been telling her all these years?” 

This made her sister narrow her eyes at the woman across from her. “What could I have said?” she asked. “Should I have told her that my father left to start another family? That mother decided to leave me with my grandmother, so she could _find herself_? But that all she achieved was finding herself pregnant with some prince’s baby?” Her knuckles had turned white as she held the arm of the chair she was in. “Forgive me for not showcasing my parents’ utter lack of propriety!”

A tense silence fell over the room. McGonagall shook her head again and stood, while Lily’s heart hammered inside her chest. She couldn’t process what her sister had just said. She didn’t understand. Their mother had been a saint, the most wonderful person she knew, she had always been there for both of her girls. That’s what she had always called them, “her girls”. 

“Tuney,” she tried to say, but it came out as a breathless whisper. “Tuney, I don’t understand.” 

Her sister narrowed her eyes at her. “Then why don’t you _listen_ to what Mrs McGonagall has to say?” 

She felt her eyes water and then turned to look at Minerva McGonagall. “Is it all true then?” she asked. “I’m a _bloody_ princess and I’m expected to go _home_ with you?” 

Before Minerva McGonagall could say anything else, she stormed out of the room. The look on both women’s faces had been more than enough. She ran up the stairs and when she reached her bedroom, she slammed the door shut. The house vibrated from the force of it and she wanted to scream, she wanted to break everything within her vicinity. 

Instead, however, she breathed hard, sobbing without tears and then let herself fall on her bed, face on her pillow. 


	2. Part 1: Princess Extraordinary

" _Please_ ," she muttered to herself, covering her eyes with her forearm, "please let all of this be a dream."  

She slowly sat up and her eyes fell on the sword on her desk. Letting out another groan, she let herself fall back on her pillow and stared up at the ceiling covered in glow-in-the-dark stickers she had put up when she was eight years old. 

Flashes of the disaster that was the day before returned to her as she did so. Her sister's crying, her own screams after Minerva McGonagall had left and when she had eventually stormed down the stairs again to accuse her sister of the ultimate betrayal. "You _knew_!" she had yelled. "You knew and you didn't even tell me! What kind of sister are you?" 

"Half-sister!" her sister had then spat at her. "Don't worry,  _Lily_ ," the venom in her voice had made her want to throw up, "you had the better father of the two."  

She had felt as though her sister had punched her in the gut and she had gone back upstairs. Petunia hadn’t spoken to her since, she had not even come up to ask her if she was hungry and she certainly hadn’t gone down to make herself something. Not with Vernon Dursley there to support her sister and confirm that, yes, her sister was the worst person to ever walk the planet. She supposed that Vernon Dursley was absolutely gleeful when he heard the news that his soon to be sister-in-law was not technically his fiancée’s full sister. 

Her stomach grumbled, but she didn’t feel like getting up to make herself breakfast just yet. She pulled her knees up against her chest and placed her chin on top of them. 

Her sister may have said that she had the better father of the two, but she had some serious doubts. She had always believed her father to have passed away before she was even born, but he hadn’t until two years ago. They had spent sixteen years on the same planet, practically only a few hours away, but yet he had never bothered – not even once – to contact her, to see her, to get to know his one and only child. What kind of person would do that? How could he live with himself? 

She had googled him last night. Even if it was to just see his face. He had had a kind smile and familiar auburn hair. Yet, she knew better. He might have been her father in blood, he was nothing else to her. She didn’t owe him anything and she certainly didn’t owe his country anything. She had decided then and there that she would renounce her title and ask Minerva McGonagall to pass it on to the next eligible heir. That’s how these things worked, right? Some obscure Duke or Duchess would jump at the chance to be handed the throne and they would have actually been raised to rule a country. 

Looking at her alarm, she realised she had to get up and ready herself for school. She was certain that she was going to ruin her Chemistry test, but not even the thought of failing to enter Cambridge or Oxford could make her care. 

After getting dressed, she ran down the stairs, hopped into the kitchen for an apple and swung her backpack around her shoulders. She thought about leaving her sister a note, but she didn’t particularly feel like she deserved one and, therefore, in a true act of rebellion, left the house without even a hello or a good morning. (She was afraid, however, that her sister couldn’t care less.) 

The cold winter air filled her nose and she let out a heavy sigh before opening her eyes and very nearly letting out a scream. 

In front of her stood an enormous, bearded man. He wore all black and sunglasses, which he truly did not need as the sky was a dull grey. She was about to regret her decision to not sign up for those self-defence classes at school – she hated exercise with a passion – when the man sent her a roguish, though strangely comforting smile. 

“Yer Lily, are ye?” 

She gaped at him. “Yes,” she said, still somewhat apprehensive, “I’m Lily.” For a brief moment, she thought about all the times her grandmother had warned her not to speak to strangers and: _“Whatever you do, do not tell them who you are!”_  

“Good,” he said, removing his sunglasses to reveal a friendly set of eyes. “Hagrid.” He held out his hand for her to shake and she took it hesitantly. Her hand disappeared in his, yet his grip was gentle. “I’ll take ye to school.” He stepped aside and motioned towards a black SUV that was parked in front of her house. At the front of the car, two tiny flags – that she recognised as the flag for the Isle of Gryffindor after googling her father the night before – gently flowed with the breeze. 

“No,” she said, shaking her head, “absolutely not, but thank you for the offer.” 

She was about to sidestep the man, but he blocked her path – very easily, may she add. “Yer not leaving without me, Princess.” Then he added with a grin: “Minerva will have me head if I do.” 

She raised one of her eyebrows. “You can tell her that I never asked to be escorted.” 

Hagrid let out a heavy sigh at this and muttered something under his breath that sounded a lot like “stubborn like ‘er father” before he picked her up off the street and carried her to the car, ignoring her loud protests. 

He put her in the passenger’s seat and buckled her seatbelt before moving to the other side and starting the car. “Let’s get ye to school in time for yer exam,” he said. 

She decided to pick her battles, letting out a deep sigh and thinking that she would inform Minerva McGonagall later on that she had no interest in being a princess. She was sure it would all stop then. 

Before Hagrid drove off, she looked out of the window and she could have sworn that she saw the curtains in front of the window of her sister’s bedroom move.

* * *

"Time is up," said Slughorn, smiling brightly as he clasped his hands together. "Pens down and papers to the front." Everyone around her moved to do just that and with a heavy sigh, Lily also put her pen down, eyeing the paper in front of her wistfully. "How did that go, huh?" she heard Slughorn ask the group. Normally, she would have sent him a bright smile, but today she didn't even dare look up at him. She didn't fail - she was sure of it - but she definitely didn't do great. 

She handed her paper to the girl in front of her and moved to pack her bag. 

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Severus' leg twitch impatiently. She had noticed that he had finished about ten minutes before the end of the test. For the first time in ages, she didn't feel the urge to discuss anything even remotely to do with Chemistry with him. 

When she had finished packing her bag, nearly all of her classmates had left the room. Severus was still waiting for her. 

"What did you think?" he asked, his usually sombre face brightened by the prospect of an intellectual chat relating to the subject that he lived for.  

She shrugged, hoisting her bag up her shoulders. "I don't know," she said. "I don't think I did well." She had hoped he would catch on and notice that the test was the last thing she wanted to talk about. Unfortunately, Severus wasn't always that perceptive. 

"But it was so _easy_!" he exclaimed as they moved out of the classroom. "Question three was an absolute joke." 

She stopped, turning towards him with a heavy sigh. "Sev," she began, "I really, really don't want to talk about it, okay?"  

His face fell and his thick, black eyebrows furrowed over his dark eyes. He crossed his pale arms in front of his chest, drawing her attention to the text on his shirt:  _WHEN CHEMISTS DIE THEY BARIUM_. "What is up with you today?" 

She turned to move again. "I'm just really tired," she told him. 

He scoffed at that. "You arrive a minute late to class, which – mind you – Slughorn only tolerated because it was you," she hummed in confirmation, "and then you seemed all rattled when you couldn't find your pencil case and stared blankly at the test paper for the first few minutes."  

She thought about what she could say in response and figured that telling Severus that she – apparently – was a princess was not the way to go. She was certain he would make fun of her before he would die from shock. 

"I had a fight with Petunia yesterday," she told him, deciding this was near enough to the truth. The expression on his face darkened, as it nearly always did when she brought up her sister. "I'm just a bit upset still." 

She thought she heard him mutter something along the lines of "stupid bitch", but she decided to ignore it, as she saw Alice Prewett waiting for her outside of the Art & Design classroom.  

"See you at lunch?" she asked Severus. He seemed somewhat disgruntled to be left on his own, but nodded all the same. She flashed him as much of a smile as she could muster and then hurried to meet her female friend. As soon as she had reached Alice, she wrapped her arms around the girl. 

Alice laughed. "Good morning to you too, dear!" 

She let her friend go. "I feel so horrible, Alice," she told her friend, who raised her eyebrows, a wicked smile playing at her lips. 

"Really?" she asked, wiggling her eyebrows. "And here I thought a morning ride in a black SUV would have been enough to cheer a girl up." 

She very nearly froze at that and Alice's smile dropped slightly. "You saw that?" 

Alice seemed slightly confused, but kept on smiling all the same. "Half the school saw it," she said. "A car like that is pretty hard to miss." Then: "So, what's up? Did Vernon get a promotion or something?" 

At this, Lily let out a bitter laugh. "As if he would even consider being in the same space with me for more than a second." 

Alice hummed in agreement, taking Lily's arm and pulling her inside of the classroom where Mrs Trelawney was awaiting their arrival. They sat at the back of the classroom and started unpacking their bags.  

"What about it then?" she asked, smiling still and then she leaned in to whisper: "New boyfriend, huh?" 

She shot her friend a disbelieving look. "What?" she asked. "You think I'm some sort of escort? What kind of boy could even afford a car like that?" 

Alice let out a loud laugh at that. "You're right," she said. "As if our lives are even remotely this exciting! Nothing ever happens." 

Lily laughed along with her friend, but a sense of dread filled her stomach. If only Alice knew...

* * *

She hopped into the black SUV after she had successfully seen Severus off on the bus and turned towards Hagrid, who was wearing his sunglasses again. "You can't drop me off or pick me up near the gates," she told him. "People are already getting suspicious." 

Hagrid let out a low chuckle. "But I  _can_  pick yer up."  

She let out a sigh, sinking into the admittedly comfortable black, leather seat. The windows were thankfully tinted. "I didn't think I had much of a choice on the matter."

"Yer don't," he replied, starting the car and driving off in the opposite direction that would have been the way home. 

"Wait!" she exclaimed. "We need to go left here."  

Hagrid shook his head. "McGonagall wants to see ye." 

She let out an exasperated sigh. "She couldn't have just asked? Like a normal person?" 

"You rich people are not normal," he replied. "Ye'll see that soon enough." 

She was about to tell him that she wasn't rich, but – to be honest – she wasn't so sure of that anymore. She was a princess, her father had been a king, even though it was of an admittedly small island with about 80.000 inhabitants. She assumed – especially after seeing numerous pictures of her father – that he must have left her some kind of fortune. He couldn’t have _just_ left her a title most girls would kill for. 

She watched London pass by outside of her window before asking Hagrid a question that had been nagging her in the back of her mind all day. "What was he like?" she asked him. "My dad, I mean." 

Hagrid's lips formed a sad smile as he let out a heavy sigh. "A good man," he replied. "Yer dad was a Gryffindor through and through." 

She had no idea what it meant, but she supposed it was a good thing. He had seemed loved. The Isle of Gryffindor had been mourning his death for over two years now. She wished she had known him, that he had bothered to get to know her while he was still alive. That was what confused her most. With everything she had read about him, she couldn't understand why he had never wanted to meet her.  

After a 20-minute drive, Hagrid slowed down, stopping in front of a building that she realised must have been the Isle of Gryffindor's embassy. The red flag with the proud, golden lion waved proudly over the large oak doors. She felt butterflies erupt in her stomach, in a most unpleasant way. 

Hagrid opened the door for her and led her inside of the embassy where a tiny man, who introduced himself as Master Flitwick, bowed for her: "Welcome home, Princess," he said reverently and she thought that tears threatened to spill past his cheeks. She had the urge to hug him, but Minerva McGonagall entered the room, wearing the same emerald green pantsuit as she had the day before. This time, however, it was adorned with a golden pin, shaped like the Gryffindor lion. 

"Your Highness," she said, dropping into an elegant curtsey that made her blush. 

"Oh no," she rushed to say, "please don't!" McGonagall's eyebrows rose again and her lips pursed. Lily thought this had quite possibly been the wrong thing to say. "I just meant... this is all so strange already." 

McGonagall decided not to comment on it, instead turning around and motioning for Lily to follow her. Lily was about to when Hagrid's large hand on her shoulder stopped her. "Would ye like me to take yer bag, Princess?" 

"Lily, please," she told him as she handed him her bag. "I would like you to call me Lily."  

Hagrid nodded, his sunglasses still hiding his eyes from view, but she thought she saw his face soften at her words. "Thank you, Lily." 

She then hurriedly followed McGonagall into the adjacent room, which was a bit of a mix between an office and a living room, she thought. The walls were covered in red and gold wallpaper and in the middle of the room, a carpet with the Gryffindor sigil covered the otherwise wooden floor. McGonagall sat down on the sofa and, as she did, grabbed a bell and rang it. 

"Tea?" she asked when Lily also hesitantly sat down. She didn't dare say no and, therefore, nodded. McGonagall regarded her quietly before she spoke. "I do have to admit that our tea is just a tad bit different from the one you are used to. I hope you don't mind." 

"No," she said, "not in the slightest." She kind of hoped different meant better. 

They waited in silence for a minute or two until a red-haired woman entered the room with a tea tray. She smiled brightly in Lily's direction and then poured her what seemed to be a bit more similar to a green tea.  

"Thank you, Molly," McGonagall said warmly, surprising Lily. She noticed that the stern woman wore a soft smile on her face. "Molly just got married three weeks ago." 

"Oh," Lily said, smiling up at the woman as well, "congratulations." 

"Best wishes," McGonagall then said. "You offer a  _bride_  your best wishes." 

Lily flushed before turning to Molly again, who sent her a kind smile. "My best wishes, I mean." 

"Thank you, Princess," the woman said before leaving the room. 

McGonagall raised her saucer and tea cup in a similar fashion as she had done the afternoon before. Lily decided that it might be wise to copy her. She felt the woman's eyes closely follow her every movement and tried to seem as poised and elegant as she possibly could. 

After a while, McGonagall let out a sigh. "I hope," she began, "that your bad posture doesn't affect your hearing." 

She knew that she was blushing. "I hear just fine, I think" she told McGonagall who nodded before taking a sip of her tea.  

"Well," she said, "your progress in school seems to imply that you are a quick learner. Let's hope this also applies to everything _I_ intend to teach you." 

She shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "Mrs McGonagall," she began, "I'm not entirely sure what you expect of me..." 

One of McGonagall's elegant eyebrows raised again. "I expect you to rule the Isle of Gryffindor and to be a good queen to its people." 

"Right," Lily said, her tea cup started to shake slightly on its saucer and she thought it wise to put it down, "I'm not entirely sure if I'm the right person for the job." 

"No one ever is," McGonagall replied curtly. "As your father's daughter, however, you must be prepared to take on your duty." 

She let out a shaky sigh. "I mean no offence, Mrs McGonagall," she started, "but I never knew my father."  

"Should that mean that you can neglect your duty and leave a country to go to wrack and ruin?" She opened her mouth to respond, but McGonagall hadn't quite finished. "I have something that I wish to show you." She reached behind her and pulled out a photograph of the late King George - her father - holding a tiny baby. She took it from McGonagall's hands and very nearly gasped when she recognised the blanket the baby was wrapped in. "You see," McGonagall said, "you did know your father. You just don't remember." 

She stared at the picture in her hands, the bright smile on her father's face as he beamed at the camera, holding her - the baby in his arms - close to his chest. She felt something form in her throat and didn't trust herself to speak. 

"Your father was terribly fond of you," she heard McGonagall say. "He wrote to you quite frequently. I've got a diary filled with his letters to you, which I would like to hand to you if you would allow me." 

Lily looked up at Minerva McGonagall then, tears in her eyes. "Why did he never come to visit?" she asked and she knew she sounded terribly upset. 

McGonagall let out a heavy sigh. "After your mother died," she began, "your sister and grandmother thought it best for your father to keep his distance. Then, when your grandmother passed away as well, your sister told us that the help we offered would be most unwelcome and that you did not wish to see your father." 

Lily very nearly gaped at McGonagall as a tear rolled down her cheek, which she furiously wiped away.  

"I'm sure," McGonagall said, gently, "that your sister had her reasons. It must have been quite hard on her to raise you on her own. She was only twelve when you were born and just seventeen when she had to fight to keep the two of you together." 

Lily knew all of this. She knew how hard her sister had fought to keep them together. She loved her sister for it, even though she had sometimes wondered why her sister had fought so hard to keep them together. She had never seemed particularly fond of her. 

She turned her attention to the picture in her hands again. "I just wish I had gotten a chance to get to know him."  

"You still can," said McGonagall and she slid a leather bound notebook onto the table. "These are his letters to you. You might want to read them before you make any decisions that you may regret later on." 

She grabbed the notebook from the table, holding it in her hand, adjusting to the weight of it. "Can I keep the picture as well?" 

"Of course you can," said McGonagall and the warmth that she had detected in her voice when she had spoken to Molly was present. She felt much more at ease. "Read it," McGonagall then continued, "read what he has to say to you and then meet me in a few days’ time. If you still wish to have nothing to do with all of this, I will understand." 

She opened the notebook to the first page where - written in an elegant hand - the words  _To Lily_  were spelled out. She traced them with her finger and felt herself nod. "I promise I'll read it all."

* * *

Her sister entered her bedroom without question. Lily - who had been immersed in reading one of her father's letters - slammed the notebook shut and moved to hide it. Her sister still noticed, though. Of course, she did. 

"What's that?" she asked, narrowing her eyes. 

Lily grabbed the notebook again and pulled it to her chest. "It's a notebook full of letters my father wrote to me." 

Her sister's nostrils flared and her eyes turned to steel. "You went to see that woman then?" 

"I didn't know I wasn't allowed to," she answered her sister defiantly. "You brought her here for a reason, right?"

Her sister sniffed at that. "You're eighteen  years old," she said. "I've done everything I could and kept my promise to mum and nan." 

"What promise?" she asked. 

"To give you a home, to keep you safe." Her sister folded her arms in front of her chest. "Vernon and I think it's time for you to go now." 

This caused her heart to stop beating for a moment. "What?" 

"We discussed it," she said. "I've gone above and beyond my duty. Now it is time for you to take care of yourself." 

She sat up on her knees, staring at her sister in disbelief. "Are you kicking me out?" 

Her sister shrugged, as cold as ice. "If that is how you want to call it," she replied, "then yes, I am." 

It took her a moment before the words had truly sunk in. She waited for a few heartbeats, for her sister to take her words back, but she seemed determined.  
  
Then, Lily stood from her bed and walked towards her closet, pulling out some of her clothes.  

"I'll be gone in half an hour," she said, fighting to keep her voice steady. 

"Good," her sister said, "don't forget to leave your key." 

She heard the door close behind her sister and only then allowed herself to show her fear, her hurt. She leaned against the door of her closet and closed her eyes, taking deep breaths to steady herself.

* * *

"It's not much, really," Alice said as she opened the door to the guest room.  

"It's perfect," she told her friend. "It's more than I could ask for." 

Alice looked at her sympathetically, placing her hand on her shoulder. "It's not, Lily," she said, her eyes sad, "I'm so sorry about all of this." 

She nodded and then moved to place her bag on the bed in the corner of the room. It seemed cosy enough. 

"I'll leave you to unpack," said Alice, pressing a kiss to Lily's cheek before she left the room, closing the door softly behind her.  

Lily opened her bag, rummaging through her things before her hands found what she had been looking for. She lifted the notebook from her bag and settled herself on the bed, opening it on the page she had been reading before her sister had interrupted her. 

 _My dear Lily,_  

 _Today is your 13th birthday. I cannot believe that the baby girl I held in my arms hours after you were born has grown up to become a teenager. Perhaps you already have your first boyfriend. The thought alone makes me want to check up on you and to perhaps forbid the boy(s) vying for your attention to ever lay eyes on you again._  

 _I am afraid that your life is quite possibly much more exciting than mine. I sign law after law, attend meetings and try to run my kingdom as best as I can. I sometimes stop to imagine what will happen after I step down. It is still quite some years away, but I cannot help but hope that you will take my place after I am gone. I will help you every step of the way, love. This job is not the easiest, but with a little help I am sure you can grow up to become a wonderful queen._  

 _My greatest regret is not having the chance to see you grow up, to know you. I hope that you will grow to be as beautiful and vivacious as your mother the day I met her, but I also hope that – when the day comes that we meet again – I will recognise something of myself in you._  

 _I asked a few people to keep an eye on you and have been informed that you do very well in school. I am very proud of you, Lily._  

 _Your loving father_  

She closed the notebook, holding it close to her heart, no longer able to keep the tears away.

* * *

"Why didn't you come to me?" asked Severus, his cheeks flushed and his eyes filled with anger. 

She felt annoyed. "This is not a contest, Sev," she told him. "The fact that I decided to stay at Alice's does not prove that I like her better." 

Severus' eyes narrowed. "Then why does it feel like it does?" 

"Because you're ridiculously insecure!" she exclaimed and then she softened slightly, burying her head in her hands: "I got kicked out by my own sister. Can we please not fight over something as stupid as this?" 

Severus let out something that sounded very much like a growl. "You should have come to me. I would have protected you." 

She let out a sigh, shaking her head at that. "I don't need protection, Sev," she told him. "I need a  _friend_."  

She didn't know exactly what about those words angered him this much, but as soon as she had said them he angrily stood: "You might have just lost one," he spat at her and then stalked off, disappearing around the corner before she could even begin to fathom what had just happened.

* * *

She knocked on the door to the headmaster's office after Slughorn had informed her that she needed to go see him. She had no idea what she had done, but she supposed that her week was absolutely atrocious already. She could deal with whatever the headmaster was going to blame on her.  

Normally, Severus would have offered to go along with her. He hated Gilderoy Lockhart with a passion and would have mocked him on the way to the headmaster's office. Now, she would have to face the man on her own.  

The golden-haired headmaster opened the door with his quizmaster smile frozen in place. "Miss Evans," he said, sounding utterly cheerful. "Or should I say _Your Highness_?" She froze, her eyes growing wide as she stared at him. "Now, now," said the headmaster, "don't be shy. I know I published a book or two, but soon enough we might grace the same cover of  _Hello_ magazine."

She didn't know what scared her more. The fact that Gilderoy Lockhart knew about the fact that she was a king's daughter or that she might one day be on the cover of a gossip magazine.  

"Mr Lockhart," she heard a familiar voice say, interrupting her thoughts and saving her from having to answer her headmaster, "would you kindly allow Lily to enter?" 

Gilderoy Lockhart wasn't affected by the tone of McGonagall's voice in the slightest, but did smoothly step aside for Lily to see Minerva McGonagall sit in what was normally the headmaster's chair. 

She entered the room and the door was closed behind her. Gilderoy Lockhart moved to clasp his hands together. "Well," he began, the bright smile still on his face, "I assume we are to meet on the matter of the princess' security? I can assure you, Mrs McGonagall, that all measures have been taken. I do have a lot of fans, you see." 

McGonagall seemed less than impressed. "I am glad, Mr Lockhart," she said, her voice flat. "Perhaps you could fetch the two of us a drink? I am sure Lily would like a refreshment."

" _Oh_ ," said the headmaster, his smile dropping slightly, "I will ask my assistant to get us some tea." 

“I would very much appreciate it if you were to get it yourself, Mr Lockhart,” said McGonagall. “Remember that this is a delicate situation, we cannot trust just anyone to get us tea, can we?” 

Lockhart’s eyes started to twinkle and his chest swelled with pride. “Of course,” he said, “yes! I will get you your tea.” He practically sprinted out of his office in pursuit of the warm liquid. 

McGonagall let out a deep sigh, shaking her head. “Thank goodness,” she said then. “I thought he would never leave.” Lily smiled slightly at that and McGonagall leaned towards her, a cheeky smile playing at her lips. “What do you think? Is he planning his next novel already on how he saved a princess from the poison put in her teacup?” 

Lily laughed. “As long as he doesn’t mention my name.” 

McGonagall nodded. “We will see to that.” Then, folding her hands on top of Lockhart’s desk, her expression changed. “Lily, darling, Hagrid came to pick you up this morning.” 

Lily flushed slightly, her eyes falling to the desk. “I’m sorry,” she replied. “I had no way to contact him.” 

“Of course,” McGonagall said, “it was most irresponsible of your sister.” 

Lily sighed heavily. “I never thought that she would just…” she stopped, unable to form the words. Whatever their differences might have been, she truly loved her sister. 

McGonagall was quiet for a moment. Perhaps she waited for Lily to say some more, but after a while she did speak. “I cannot imagine what it must feel like,” she began. “I know it may not be what you want, but you _are_ a princess and you have access to all the belongings of the realm.” 

She bit her lip, looking up at McGonagall again. “It wouldn’t feel right to accept such an offer without giving you something in return.” McGonagall’s eyes widened slightly and Lily realised how it all must have sounded. She had spent the night thinking rather than sleeping and had soon come to a conclusion. Her father’s letters had given her no option, really. “If you will have me, I would like to learn how to be a princess." 

McGonagall suppressed the joy that Lily’s words clearly brought her. “Lily,” she began, “are you sure? I would not want you to make a decision based on your current circumstances.” 

“That’s not it,” she said quickly. “It’s my father. It’s what he wanted and…” she swallowed, “I think it’s something I want to try.” 

The woman in front of her unclasped her hands and reached one out to fold it over her own, squeezing it slightly. “He would be very proud of you.” She looked as though she was going to say more, but at that very moment Gilderoy Lockhart entered his office, three mugs of tea in his hands. 

“So,” he said, sounding utterly delighted, “where were we?”

* * *

“These are the books I want you to have finished reading by next Friday.” 

Minerva McGonagall placed five thick books on the desk in her new bedroom. She had been offered a complete and decorated apartment, but had informed McGonagall that she would rather stay at the embassy with her. It had taken some convincing on her part, but eventually McGonagall had agreed and had asked Flitwick, Master of the House, to prepare the best bedroom for the princess. 

Now, eyeing the books on her desk, she regretted her choice slightly. 

She grabbed the book on top of the pile and looked at the cover, which read: _A History of Bravery – Gryffindor, Where Dwell the Brave at Heart_. “All of them?” she asked, noticing that this copy alone contained over a thousand pages. 

“Is that a problem?” asked McGonagall and by the sound of her voice, Lily knew that the woman had left no room for any of her excuses. 

“No,” she said quickly, smiling at the woman, “I was just making sure.” 

“Good,” McGonagall replied. Lily expected the woman to leave the room, but she lingered and then, with a heavy sigh, she continued: “Lily, I have discussed the matter of your staying here with Gryffindor’s Prima Minister, Albus Dumbledore and, of course, you are most welcome, but he did remind me that, well…” she took a deep breath, “the people have been waiting for two years for the rightful heir to the Gryffindor throne to be announced.” 

“Oh.” 

“You understand that people will want to get to know you.” 

“I do.” 

“Then you are in agreement?” 

Lily bit her lip, the book still in her hands. “What would I have to do?” 

McGonagall took the book from her hands and opened it on the first page. “As you will read in this book, the Isle of Gryffindor was founded in 993, it is one of the oldest remaining kingdoms in the world. An occasion we celebrate every 14 February.” 

Lily did the maths. “But that’s in twelve days!” 

“Which means that I have twelve days to turn you into a princess.” 

She wasn’t sure exactly what all of this entailed, but judging by the tired expression on McGonagall’s face, it was going to take quite a bit of work to complete the transformation. 

Lily bit on the inside of her cheek, before she nodded slowly. “All right,” she said, “let’s get started!” 

McGonagall seemed satisfied and turned around, walking towards the door. “Perfect!” she said curtly. “Start by reading those books I gave you.” 

The woman left the room and Lily let out a heavy sigh, opening _A History of Bravery_ on the first page.

* * *

She was on page 834 of _A History of Bravery_ when Alice forced her to have some lunch. “What are you reading that monstrous thing for anyway?" 

She didn’t know exactly how to tell her friend that she would have her coming out as a princess in eleven days. How did you go about that anyway? It was something out of fairy tales that your parents read to you before you went to sleep. It was, perhaps, also a bit like a teen romance, too good to be true. It definitely didn’t feel that way to her, but she was certain that other people would perceive it as such. Yet, she had to tell her, right? She couldn’t allow Alice to find out via the media and she had already sent her a questioning look that morning when Headmaster Lockhart had made a point to be photographed with the “other celebrity” in the school for the end-of-year book. 

She looked up at her friend, only to briefly catch the eye of Severus, who was sat three tables away, glowering at her and radiating anger. She couldn’t deal with him. Not now. 

“I have to tell you something,” she told Alice, “but I can’t do it here.” 

Alice’s eyebrows shot up. “Okay…” she said, looking around her, “where do you want to go?” 

“How about the library?” 

Lily knew for a fact that no one frequented the library at lunchtime. She had visited it often enough with Severus during this time of the day. 

Alice agreed and the two of them stood up, Lily clutching her book under her arm as Alice sent her furtive looks out of the corner of her eye. She knew that Alice would most likely freak out and that she would ask a million questions that Lily could not yet answer. Funnily enough, though, she _would_ be able to tell Alice all about the Battle of the Peverell Brothers in 1174, which she had read about the evening before. 

Once they reached the library, Lily found them a table in the corner of the room, which allowed her to view the doors – which meant that she could observe anyone who might come in – but was still secluded enough not to be disturbed. 

“You’re starting to freak me out,” Alice said, flushing slightly. 

Lily let out a short giggle. “I’m about to freak you out a lot more,” she told her and when Alice shot her a confused look, she let out a heavy sigh. 

“Does this have anything to do with the fact that Petunia kicked you out?” 

“Yeah,” she said, taking a deep breath, “she kicked me out because of it.” 

Alice seemed horrified now. “Heavens, Lily,” she began, “what did you do?” 

“Nothing!” she told her friend, rolling her eyes. “It’s just… we had a visitor the day after my birthday. It turns out that Petunia and I don’t have the same father.” 

Alice’s eyes nearly bulged out of her head. “ _No way_!” 

She could tell that her friend loved the drama of it, which gave her some courage to continue. “Yep,” she said, “Petunia knew, she has always known, but she never told me.” 

“That’s what the fight was about,” Alice nodded in understanding, the bun on top of her head flopping along. 

“It was,” she said, realising that the difficult part came next. “Most of it has to do with the fact that my dad, well,” she paused, watching the expression on Alice’s face, her friends eyes were wide in a mixture of surprise, excitement and fear. She loved that Alice showed her feelings that easily. If she were to have this conversation with Severus, she was sure he would betray no emotion whatsoever. 

“Your dad…” Alice encouraged. 

“My dad was King George of the Isle of Gryffindor.” 

Silence fell over the library and Lily smiled sheepishly at her friend. Alice’s mouth dropped, she stood up from her seat and took a few steps away from her. Lily watched Alice’s hands as she started to fan herself, her smile growing wider and wider. “Oh my god,” she exclaimed, “oh my god!” 

“I know,” she said softly, feeling blood rush to her cheeks. “It’s absolutely insane.” 

“Insane?” she asked. “This is maddening! This doesn’t happen to people, Lily!” Lily only nodded in reply, allowing her friends to adjust to the news. “Oh my god, you’re a _princess_!” 

Before Lily knew what had happened, Alice had run towards her and had wrapped her arms around her neck, hugging Lily tight. “Oh, Lily,” she let out, “I’m excited, but sorry at the same time. Is that the appropriate response?” 

“I don’t know,” she answered, relieved at the realisation that she was not going to lose her last friend. “I’m scared most of the time,” she admitted. “I have no clue what I’ve gotten myself into.” 

Alice let go of her, but smiled at her sympathetically. “So, what does this all mean then?” 

“That I might be queen some day?” she wasn’t sure if she asked Alice or herself. “I’ve never even been to the Isle of Gryffindor before.” 

“Well,” Alice began, “I doubt that Prince James has visited each and every corner of the country, but that’s not a requirement for the job, right?” Then, as if realisation had hit her, a dreamy expression filled her eyes. “Oh my god… you might meet him! Prince James!” 

She very nearly gagged at the thought. Sure, the British crown prince was handsome, she supposed, but he was also the most arrogant twat to walk the earth. Plus, he played polo. She _detested_ polo (and any and all exercise if she was being honest). 

“Not sure if that is something to look forward to,” she told Alice. 

“Don’t be stupid!” Alice replied. “He is gorgeous and so are you, a match made in heaven, right?” 

She rolled her eyes at that and was tempted to help her friend out of the dream, but decided to let her chatter on excitedly. Lily admitted that sharing all of this with Alice was perhaps the best decision she could have made and if she were completely honest, she was even getting a little bit excited about it all herself.

* * *

“No,” McGonagall’s strict voice sounded and she very nearly let out a groan. “That looked ridiculous. As if you’ve never walked before.” 

“Not like this, I didn’t,” she muttered under her breath before picking up the pillow that had fallen off her head to the floor. 

“Try again,” McGonagall said. 

If she were to believe the woman in the emerald green pantsuit, she had the worst posture known to mankind. However often she tried, however hard she worked and however much she attempted to adjust to McGonagall’s commands, she could never satisfy her. 

“I’m never going to get the hang of this,” she said, disgruntled. “We might as well accept the fact that I slouch.” 

“Not on my watch!” McGonagall said sternly and filled with conviction. She placed her hands on Lily’s shoulders, adjusting the way she held her head. 

She gritted her teeth together as McGonagall placed the pillow back on top of her head and then managed to walk five steps before it fell off. 

She heard McGonagall suck in a deep breath and then, after a momentary silence: “Let’s move on to something else for today.” 

Lily very nearly let out a loud ‘hallelujah’ before realising that McGonagall was not going to appreciate it in the slightest. She, therefore, forced a smile on her face and followed McGonagall to the sofa in the middle of the room. She sat down as McGonagall reached for a huge black book on the corner of the table. 

“Okay, let’s start,” McGonagall said, “the king and queen of The Netherlands.” 

“King Willem-Alexander and Queen Màxima,” she recited. “They have three daughters named Amelia, Alexia and Ariane.” 

“Spain.” 

“Felipe and Letitia. They also have two daughters: Leonor and Sofia.” 

“Great Britain.” 

“Queen Euphemia and her husband Prince Fleamont. They have one son named James. He likes racing cars, polo and fancies himself a ladies man.” 

McGonagall raised an eyebrow at that. “Why does it feel like you are reciting a gossip magazine.” 

Lily shrugged. “I possibly am.” 

McGonagall shook her head at that and closed the book. “You do realise,” she began, “that the Isle of Gryffindor’s relations with Great Britain are of the utmost importance.” 

She nodded reluctantly, letting herself fall back against the pillows. “I know…” 

McGonagall watched her and she could have sworn that her eyes softened slightly. “You have been working very hard.” 

“I read over 4000 pages in five days,” she agreed. McGonagall hummed as Lily felt her eyes drop. “I just need a few minutes to recover,” she told the older woman. 

It was not until three hours later, when she woke up in her bed, that she realised she had needed a bit more than just a few minutes.

* * *

It was the night before her grand debut. Hagrid was driving both her and McGonagall to Godric’s Hollow, the capital of the Isle of Gryffindor where Peverell Palace took its proud seat. Despite the darkness surrounding them, Hagrid still wore his sunglasses and she honestly wondered how he could see anything at all. 

She hadn’t spoken to her sister in thirteen days, she hadn’t spoken to Severus in twelve of them. It pained her to admit it, but she missed the both of them. She had attempted to reach out to her sister only two days before by sending her a quick text, but she had not received a response yet. Severus still would not so much as even look at her and Lily was stubborn enough to realise the injustice of it all. She hadn’t done anything wrong. 

The car stopped in front of the gates of what she assumed to be Peverell Palace, Hagrid rolled his window down, nodded in the direction of the guard standing at watch and the gate swung open. They drove slowly and Lily could see a lone man await the car near the doors to the palace. He had a white beard and wore a purple suit. She recognised him as Albus Dumbledore, the Prime Minister of the Isle of Gryffindor. 

McGonagall walked briskly towards Dumbledore as soon as the car had stopped, while Lily climbed out nervously. 

“Minerva,” Albus Dumbledore said, a smile playing at his lips, “I trust you had a safe journey.” 

“I’m glad to have left London,” she heard the woman say before she motioned for Lily to come closer. “Albus, this is her.” 

The man’s gaze fell on her, his kind eyes twinkling as the close-lipped smile on his lips grew wider. “Good evening, Princess,” he said, bowing his head. 

The bowing and curtseying, she thought, was the worst of it. It was terribly embarrassing to have people older than her bow down for her as a mark of respect. Respect for what? She found herself thinking. 

“Good evening, sir,” she replied in response, offering him her hand – as McGonagall had instructed as the proper gesture upon meeting someone – which he placed a dry kiss on. 

“Shall we go in?” asked McGonagall somewhat impatiently. “It has grown rather chilly.” 

The Isle of Gryffindor was an island just off the coast of Scotland, further North than she had ever been. She found herself shivering now that McGonagall had mentioned the drop in temperature compared to London. 

“Of course,” Dumbledore said and the three of them went inside. Lily looked over her shoulder to find Hagrid send her an encouraging smile before he got into the car again, driving away as she walked through the doors. 

Peverell Palace had been built in the twelfth century by the Peverell brothers, just a few years before they decided to fight one another over the Gryffindor throne. While the building was around 800 years old, however, it was incredibly well-kept. 

They walked through a large hall, the walls covered with tapestries portraying parts of the history of the House of Gryffindor. She stopped in front of a large tapestry on which the Gryffindor family tree was sewn. At the top, Godric Gryffindor’s name stood proudly with the names of the three Peverell brothers – Antioch, Cadmus and Ignotus – following not too long after. Antioch Peverell had died during the Battle of the Brothers in 1174, leaving no offspring behind, but Cadmus and Ignotus Peverell’s bloodlines were strong. She followed the trail down Cadmus Peverell’s name. It branched out here and there, adding new names to the tree and going in different directions until her eyes fell on her father’s name – George of Gryffindor – before noticing her own just below it: Lily Georgiana Evangeline. She wondered when it had been stitched in. Was it a recent addition or had it been there for the past eighteen years per her father’s request?  
  
Her eyes then followed Ignotus’ bloodline, finding Iolanthe Peverell who had married Lord Hardwin Potter, she followed that line further down, her eyes landing on Ralston Potter, Henry Potter and Fleamont Potter before her eyes slid to the right where Queen Euphemia’s name was spelled out neatly. Then, finally, all the way at the bottom, in golden lettering much the same as hers, the name James Fleamont was spelled out. 

The relation was incredibly distant, but she thought it strange to think that she shared an ancestor with a few of the members of the British royal family. The link was over a 1000 years old and she knew this meant they were barely related at all, but it still caused her to pause. 

“Lily?” 

She looked to her right to find McGonagall waiting for her, her hands clasped behind her back. 

Flushing slightly, she quickened her steps to reach the woman, who smiled politely and placed one of her hands on her shoulder. 

“Welcome home, Princess,” she said and for the first time in two weeks, she felt like she might have one.

* * *

She fingered the golden fabric of her floor-length dress nervously. Minerva McGonagall stood beside her, wearing a dress in her signature emerald green, the golden lion pinned to her chest. The woman seemed slightly startled when Lily let out a shaky breath. 

“Are you feeling well?” she asked. 

Lily couldn’t look at her. “Nervous,” she replied. “I feel like I might be sick.” 

McGonagall snapped her fingers and one of the guards stepped closer to them. “Mr Longbottom,” she told him, “could you fetch the princess a chair? She needs to sit down for a moment.” 

Lily heard him disappear from the room for only a few seconds before he came running back, placing a chair behind her, which McGonagall gently urged her to sit down in. 

“I can’t,” she said, tears stinging in her eyes, “we’ll be late.” 

McGonagall scoffed at that. “A princess,” she replied, “is never late. Everyone else is simply early.” 

Lily let out a laugh at that, looking up at the woman through her watery eyes. “What if I’m the worst princess in the world? What if I disappoint them all?” 

The lines around McGonagall’s mouth softened and she let out a sigh. “Oh, Lily,” she said, cupping one of her cheeks with her hand, “for that reason alone I know you’ll be an excellent princess. The fact that you don’t want to disappoint is enough. I know you’ll do your best. Look at all you’ve learned these past two weeks!” 

She shook her head. “I still slouch, I wobble in heels… the only thing I seem to be somewhat okay at is studying the history of the Isle of Gryffindor.” 

McGonagall smiled at that. “Baby steps,” she said and then: “Perhaps I have been a bit too hard on you. I should have offered you a biscuit every now and then.” 

“Or chocolate,” another voice interrupted them. Lily looked up to find Albus Dumbledore smiling down at her. “My experience, Princess, is that it is our choices that show us what we truly are far more than our abilities.” His eyes twinkled. “You made the choice to represent the people of Gryffindor, to take on the burden of the crown.” 

“A truly brave decision,” McGonagall agreed, stepping away from her. 

“What do you say, Your Highness?” asked Dumbledore then. “Are you ready?” 

She stood, lifting her chin and bracing her shoulders. “Let’s give the people their princess.”

* * *

She had hundreds of unread messages on her phone, her mailbox had exploded and every newspaper and gossip magazine had her face plastered on the front page. She didn’t even know where to start, didn’t even want to think about where to begin. 

Her phone buzzed again, Severus’ name lit up the screen and she looked at it as its incessant ringing caused her stomach to turn unpleasantly. She didn’t even want to think about what Severus would have to say to her. He had never made a secret out of his personal beliefs that royalty were useless and now she was one of them. She was royal, a princess, the Princess of the Isle of Gryffindor and the whole world knew and – even more surprisingly – seemed to care about it. 

DAZZLING PRINCESS, one of the many headlines in today’s newspapers read and looking at the photograph accompanying the statement, she couldn’t help but think that she indeed did dazzle. McGonagall’s team had made sure of that as they had prepared Lily for her presentation, while McGonagall asked her to recite her speech over and over again. She thinks she did well, because McGonagall had patted her arm after she had spoken in front of – what she learned later – an audience of 2.8 million viewers across the United Kingdom. “Not to mention,” Dumbledore had said, “all of those who watched overseas.” 

The prospect was daunting and, for a moment, she wished she could turn back time and just go back to her former life as an ordinary 18-year-old trying on a pair of heels at the Irregular Choice shoe shop. She would still love to buy a pair. She thinks she deserves one after all she has put herself through in the past few months. 

The door to her bedroom in Peverell Palace opened and revealed a somewhat rattled Mary McKinnon. Mary was a 25-year-old woman born and bred in the capitol of the Isle of Gryffindor: Godric’s Hollow. She had been appointed Lily’s lady in waiting as soon as she had arrived at the palace. 

“You need to get out off bed,” Mary said, grabbing Lily’s arm.

“What?” she asked. She was wearing her favourite pair of pyjamas after having decided that she deserved and needed the day in bed. “Why?” 

“McGonagall received a phone call,” said Mary, as if this explained everything and – to be quite frank – it did explain a lot. Everyone listened to McGonagall when she ordered you about. 

“A phone call…” said Lily as she watched Mary go through her dresses. In the past few days, McGonagall had made sure that her wardrobe was fitting of a princess, which meant she had now about twenty-five dresses for several occasions. Mary, however, had told her not to worry as she would see to it that she would always be dressed according to the latest fashion trends. 

“A phone call from Buckingham Palace.” 

Lily froze at that. “ _What_?” 

“That’s exactly what everyone else is thinking.” 

“What does this mean, though?” asked Lily. 

“It means,” began Mary, “that Queen Euphemia spoke to McGonagall herself to inform her that it was high time she met the Princess of Gryffindor.” Then – perhaps as a bit of an afterthought, but it shocked Lily to the core – “And apparently she is bringing the whole family.” 

“ _What_?” 

“Exactly,” said Mary. “We need to make sure you look your absolute best. You will stun them. We will show them exactly who you are.” 

Lily gaped at Mary’s back as she very nearly whined: “But _I_ don’t even know who I am, so what are you going to show them?” But she kept her cool and just stood there as the young woman in front of her pulled out dress after dress and seemed to be making up her mind. 

“Just to be clear,” Lily asked, “when you say she’s bringing the whole family…” 

“Oh,” said Mary, “that means she’s bringing her husband and son. Possibly also Lord Sirius, who is practically her adopted son.” 

Prince James. She was about to meet Prince James. Heir to the British throne, polo player, fan of racing cars and an absolute heartthrob. At least, that’s what other said. The media loved him, because – unlike his mother – he was not the epitome of sophistication. He was wild and rough at the edges if she was to believe the British media and – at this point in the game – she was rather inclined to believe it as she had not yet experienced the media at its very worst. 

“Ha!” Mary said and she turned around with a dress in her hand. “This will absolutely do. They won’t know what hit them if you show up in this dress.” 

Lily eyed it and felt her cheeks redden.

* * *

Lily’s neckline did not leave a lot to the imagination. 

The deep Gryffindor red fabric clung to her skin and she felt highly uncomfortable. Mary had pulled her hair up in a twisted bun and had put a golden necklace with a ruby stone around her neck. She felt very much like a pretend princess and as she stood next to Albus Dumbledore and Minerva McGonagall, she could not help but wish to be transported back home. If only she were in London, in Slughorn’s classroom… why did she have to be holed up in the stuffy throne room of Peverell Palace? As she was not yet queen, she was not even allowed to sit on the throne behind her. Instead, she had to try and stay upright on heels matching her dress in an attempt not to topple over as Queen Euphemia, Prince Fleamont and their sons came in. She was certain that Minerva McGonagall would die from shame if she were to fall flat on her face. Come to think of it, she wasn’t even sure if her boobs would not decide to break free from the fashion tape that currently held the dress up, in case of a mighty embarrassing fall. 

Just when she was about to ask either McGonagall or Dumbledore – possibly Dumbledore as he seemed to have a soft spot for her – if she could please get out of her heels, while they were waiting for the British royal family, Frank Longbottom – member of the guard – appeared in the doorway, clearing his throat. 

“Her Majesty Queen Euphemia of Great Britain, accompanied by her husband Prince Fleamont, her son and heir to the British throne Prince James and his friend Lord Sirius.” 

The doors opened wide and in strode the party of four. 

Queen Euphemia wore an ivory ensemble that she looked positively amazing in. Her black hair was streaked with greys, but looked elegant. Her smile was blinding as she swiftly moved to meet the three people already present in the room. 

“Albus, Minerva,” she said, nodding in their directions before her eyes settled on Lily, “and you must be Princess Lily,” she said. 

Lily was temporarily blinded by the magnificence that radiated off Queen Euphemia. She was – as Lily had suspected – the most amazing woman she had ever seen. She even topped Minerva McGonagall and that was saying something. 

“Your Majesty,” she heard herself say and she dropped into a curtsey. 

She felt two hands on her shoulders and when she looked up, she was met with Queen Euphemia’s wide smile. “See,” the queen then said, “this one has manners, James. Perhaps you should ask her to give you some tips on proper conduct?” 

She had to fight the laugh the threatened to escape her when she heard someone – she assumed it was Prince James – groan. 

“Seriously, mother?” he asked, disgruntled. 

Lily’s eyes met Prince James’ for the first time. He was handsome, yes, that she would admit, but his hair was incredibly messy and she wondered how he could get away with it. McGonagall surely would have never allowed it. 

Queen Euphemia ignored her son and instead pulled Lily in for a hug. “It’s so lovely to meet you, my dear,” she said. “I’m pleased to see that the Isle of Gryffindor will not be left in my son’s unnaturally clumsy hands.” 

“ _Hey_!” Prince James shouted in the distance, while Prince Fleamont had struck up a conversation with Albus Dumbledore. 

“No,” Queen Euphemia sternly told her son, “ _that’s_ what you get for sneaking out in the middle of the night to god knows where.” 

Prince James rolled his eyes at that and turned his back on his mother, facing his friend, but this time his father intervened. “Introduce yourself properly, James,” he said, motioning towards Lily.

The prince sent his father a fixed glare before he let out a sigh, turned to Lily and bowed disinterestedly. “It’s an honour to meet you, Princess,” he very nearly mumbled and Lily was less than impressed. 

“I would say the same, but –” she started, but then she caught Minerva McGonagall’s flashing eyes. “ _But_ ,” she continued, “that would not do my joy justice. It’s a delight to meet all of you.” 

Queen Euphemia sent her a dazzling smile and complimented Minerva McGonagall on “a job well done”, while Lily raised one of her eyebrows at Prince James. He stared back at her, a strange look on his face, while his friend – Lord Sirius – leaned in to whisper something in his ear. 

Her eyes did not stray from Prince James’ and his did not stray from hers. It was not that she couldn’t keep her eyes away from him. It had, instead, everything to do with the fact that she was not going to award him the satisfaction of having won. She wasn’t sure what he would win, but he would certainly win something if she were the one to look away first.

Suddenly, she remembered something Alice had said: _“He is gorgeous and so are you, a match made in heaven, right?”_

She had never believed in such a thing as love at first sight, but suddenly she started to doubt its existence. For the moment she laid eyes on Prince James, she felt a strong sense of loathing fill her. 

A match made in heaven? What about a match made in hell?

 

 


End file.
